


A Mirror, Darkly

by MirrorMystic



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Twins, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Idiots in Inaba AU, Joker Twins AU, Post-Canon, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 14:27:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13928979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirrorMystic/pseuds/MirrorMystic
Summary: Akira always gushes about the family he found during his year in Tokyo.He never mentions the one he lost.[AU where Akira and Ren are twins- but only one becomes a Thief.]





	A Mirror, Darkly

**Author's Note:**

> A companion fic to "Liminal Places". A dark reflection- or its Shadow, if you would.

~*~  
  
When she was twenty-two years old, Minami Kurusu thought she was in love.  
  
She’s hardly the first person to have made that mistake.  
  
Her partner, Soren Amamiya, was a foreigner studying abroad in Japan. He had frizzy hair, a laugh that made Minami’s heart race, and a smile that masked a hair-trigger temper.  
  
A year after they met, they were engaged; two, and they were married. Six months after the wedding, Soren and Minami discovered that they were having twins.  
  
It took more than a decade for them to realize that the twins were _all_ they had.  
  
They don’t measure their nights in terms of ‘good’ or ‘bad’. A more accurate measure would be ‘quiet’ or ‘loud’. Quiet nights aren’t good nights; they’re tense nights. They’re muted dinners, they’re the hitch of Minami’s shoulders whenever a fork clinks against a plate just a little too hard.  
  
But loud nights are worse. Loud nights are the nights that could have stayed quiet, if not for one little question, one chore left undone, or one acid remark under Minami’s breath.  
  
On the loud nights, the boys retreat to their room, little Akira squeezing his eyes shut and clapping his hands over his ears- while Ren, half a minute older and half an inch taller, holds his little brother in his arms and doesn’t let go until the shouting stops.  
  
“I’ve got you,” Ren whispers. “I’ve got you.”  
  
This is the closest they’ve ever been-  
  
-and it’s the closest they’ll ever be.  
  
~*~  
  
When the boys are thirteen years old, their parents split up. There is no formal divorce; Soren just walks out, and takes Ren with him, because “it’s only fair”. Akira stays in the countryside with Minami. Now, every night is a quiet one.  
  
As someone who spent years choosing between quiet dread or shouted terror, Akira welcomes the quiet. But Minami doesn’t weather the change quite as well. The house feels far too big, far too empty, and Minami herself just seems so small, so frail, so hollow. Even when the mortgage falls through and they’re forced to move to a hole-in-the-wall apartment, Minami’s gaunt cheekbones and vacant eyes fail to fill the space. She spends her nights sitting ghostlike and alone at the dining table, staring out at something miles- or years- away.  
  
Until one night breaks the silence as surely as a police siren splits the air.  
  
It’s some time after the incident, and Akira’s sharing his bed with a shipping crate full of his own clothes. He’s staring up at the ceiling, more numb than angry, his cell phone propped up against his ear.  
  
He wants to say how he couldn’t help himself- how he saw a woman recoiling in fear from an angry drunk, and something just snapped in his head.  
  
He doesn’t, though. Not out loud. Because, even as far apart as they are, he’s confident that Ren already knows.  
  
_“Do you want me to stab him?”_ Ren offers lightly.  
  
“I don’t think that’ll really help my case,” Akira says.  
  
_“I’ve got a knife,”_ Ren says. _“I can do it.”_  
  
Akira quirks his lip. It’s not quite a smile, like how Ren isn’t quite his brother anymore, or how his mother’s apartment isn’t quite a home.  
  
_“How’s Mom?”_ Ren asks.  
  
Akira’s expression darkens. He can scarcely think of Minami as his mother anymore. She’s a ghost in his peripheral vision; the woman who sleeps in a room down the hall. The woman who was sending him away to spend a year of probation in Tokyo- all to save her own reputation.  
  
Despite this, Akira didn’t hate her. He couldn’t. He couldn’t feel much of anything, these days.  
  
“She’s still around,” Akira says, even if it seems like she doesn’t want to be. Ren can hear the second, unspoken half of that sentence, surely. Akira wonders if they’re truly so close they don’t have to say anything- or so far apart that they just can’t find the words.  
  
“When’s your train?” Ren asks.  
  
“Tomorrow.”  
  
“You’ll call, right?”  
  
Akira exhales. “...Yeah.”  
  
It’s not the first lie he’ll tell his brother. And it won’t be the last.  
  
~*~  
  
His first night in Tokyo, Akira lies on a ratty mattress propped up on cinderblocks, staring up at a dusty ceiling. The reality of his situation settles like a yoke on his shoulders. Lost. Alone. Surrounded by rumors and unveiled hostility.  
  
Akira glances at his phone, feeling trapped, feeling abandoned, feeling nothing.  
  
He doesn’t call.  
  
~*~  
  
Of course, life in Tokyo quickly becomes much more exciting than Akira anticipates. Minami and Ren vanish into the periphery of his thoughts, overtaken by the new lights that enter his life- each one burning, shining like a star. And Soren? Soren might as well be a ghost.  
  
The Phantom Thieves rise and fall, and Akira’s junior year passes in a blur-  
  
-until once again, he’s back in the countryside, in his mother’s apartment, silent like the stillness after a bomb goes off.  
  
Their reunion is muted, to say the least. Akira mutters ‘hello’ before trudging upstairs to his room. In sharp contrast to the attic at Leblanc, his room has an actual bed frame, not cinderblocks. It also has an actual door.  
  
Akira drops his luggage on the floor, an indignant yelp sounding from one of his bags. Morgana pokes his head out, ready to give Akira an earful, but he watches Akira push the door shut and slump onto his bed, as if in slow motion, and suddenly, not even Morgana has anything to say.  
  
Akira slips ghostlike back into the tedium of rural life, with the people of his hometown barely noticing he was gone. The days drift past like fog- that is, until the time comes for him to resume his senior year in high school, put on hold due to the move.  
  
On his first day back at Yasogami High, Akira sees the light. It’s there, twinkling in none other than Shiho Suzui’s eyes, as Akira numbly reintroduces himself to classmates who’d scarcely noticed his year away. When he catches her gaze across the room, the light in her eyes cuts through the fog.  
  
They spend an entire afternoon on the banks of the Samegawa River, catching up on the previous year. The words flood out of Akira’s mouth, as if he’s worried that if he doesn’t get them out now, they’ll just be trapped, lodged in his throat, forever. Shiho lays back, Morgana curled up on her stomach, and listens to every story with a gentle smile, Akira’s voice and gesticulating hands so full of life and sheer, unmasked _adoration_ that it makes her heart ache.  
  
As the sun sets over the horizon and paints the sky orange and pink, Akira finally stops talking to catch his breath. He apologizes, sheepish, for talking all afternoon and barely letting Shiho get a word in. But honestly, Shiho could listen to him gush about his inner circle all day.  
  
They stop at a bookstore on the way back to Minami’s apartment. Shiho insists on getting him a gift- a homecoming present, she calls it, though she and Akira both know that this town isn’t home for either of them.  
  
Shiho picks out a calendar. Together, they sit on a bench outside the shop while Shiho painstakingly circles every Sunday and every holiday in red.  
  
“I try to visit Ann every Sunday, if I can,” Shiho says. “You’re welcome to join me, if you like.”  
  
Part of Akira feels like he’s intruding. The other, much louder part of him wouldn’t miss that for the world.  
  
Akira watches Shiho go through the calendar, marking dates, already making plans. For the first time since he left Tokyo, he doesn’t feel like a ghost. He feels alive, again. He feels real.  
  
It’s amazing, the difference a familiar face can make.  
  
~*~  
  
“What are you doing here?”  
  
Akira hates that that’s the first thing he says, but he can’t help it. He hopes it doesn’t sound like an accusation.  
  
Ren flashes him a devil-may-care grin, standing on Minami’s doorstep.  
  
Akira and Ren aren’t identical twins, but they might as well be. Their only real differences are Akira’s frizzier hair, and Ren’s eyes- striking crimson, not stormy gray. Looking at Ren was like looking in a mirror- albeit a smudged, dirty mirror, in poor light.  
  
“‘What am I doing here’, he says,” Ren grins. “Can’t a guy visit his little brother?”  
  
“Ren.”  
  
Ren hesitates, and Akira sees his smile for the mask it is.  
  
“Dad died.”  
  
Akira goes still. He opens his mouth to say something, closes it again.  
  
Ren’s eyes are hooded. “You can say ‘good’, y’know. I won’t mind.”  
  
Akira doesn’t say that. Instead, he settles for “How?”  
  
Ren raises and lowers one shoulder. “...Car accident.”  
  
Neither of them say anything after that. A long moment passes between them- too long. Eventually, Ren claps a hand on Akira’s shoulder. He briefly meets his eyes, before stepping inside to go looking for their mom.  
  
Akira stands there with Soren’s ghost on his shoulders, silent, willing himself to feel angry, or sad, or just… anything at all.  
  
~*~  
  
Minami takes the news about as graciously as one can expect. There’s a quiet wake. A quieter funeral. There’s a muted discussion over dinner about Ren moving in, since it’s not like he can afford to pick up his father’s lease. Not one of them manages to shed any tears today, not even Minami. Ren, idly, wonders why.  
  
Akira wants to snap ‘you know damn well why’, but he stares into his bowl, mindlessly stirring his ramen.  
  
“Grief is about absence.” Minami murmurs, matter-of-fact. “And he was already gone.”  
  
~*~  
  
Ren moves in. He shares Akira’s room, because the apartment’s cramped as it is. Ren spends days just lying in bed, blasting music so loud the walls shake, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Akira doesn’t stick around to complain about the noise or the lack of privacy. He’s either at school, or at work, or with Shiho.  
  
Shiho is a godsend during Akira’s senior year. She’s his anchor; his lifeline. Along with the group chat, and Morgana’s constant nagging just to break the oppressive quiet of his thoughts, Shiho is one of the few reasons Akira stays sane.  
  
They spend a day prowling through Junes in search of the rumored ‘bear mascot’, which may or may not be just an urban legend. When their search comes up fruitless, they depart with a consolation prize- a pair of steak skewers from the yakiniku stand in the food court, and a cork board to hang on Akira’s wall. Shiho insists that getting photos printed and physically pinning them to the wall feels so much more solid than just browsing them on your phone. In this foggy, ghostlike year, Akira needs all the solidity he can get.  
  
They return to Minami’s apartment complex, only to find Ren standing on the steps, having a cigarette.  
  
Akira feels a hitch in his shoulders, and a tightness in his jaw.  
  
“...I’ll see you,” he mutters.  
  
Shiho smiles gently, and waves. “I’ll see you.”  
  
Akira feels a twinge in his chest when he sees the way Ren’s eyes follow Shiho down the street. Ren whistles, long and low.  
  
“Who’s the hottie?” he wonders.  
  
“You leave her alone,” Akira warns.  
  
“Easy, tiger,” Ren grins. “I didn’t know she was yours.”  
  
“She’s not ‘mine’,” Akira growls. “She doesn’t belong to me, or anyone-”  
  
“Alright, alright!” Ren says, raising a hand. “It’s just a joke. You remember what a joke is, don’t you? Or did they not have those up in Tokyo?”  
  
Ren’s smiling, but Akira can see the teeth in his words. He shoulders past him, and heads upstairs.  
  
He gets to his room- their room- _his_ room, and puts the corkboard up on his wall. He flips through the calendar beside it, eyes flitting past flashes of red.  
  
Graduation is March, next year. And then after that…  
  
“Nine months,” Akira mutters, sinking into his chair. “Nine months…”  
  
~*~  
  
_You never told me you had a brother_ , Shiho texts him that night.  
  
_I don’t_ , Akira replies.  
  
~*~  
  
Akira does everything he can to make the nine months until graduation pass more quickly. He spends less and less time at the apartment, always out and about, whether he’s at school, with Shiho, or picking up shifts at one of several part-time jobs. The constant work should be exhausting- instead, it’s exhilarating, serving to both fill the time until graduation and to pay for Akira’s train tickets into Tokyo. One day, he’ll buy a ticket to Tokyo, and it will be his last one- and it’s that thought that spurs Akira onward.  
  
Nine months. Nine months, and he’ll be born again.  
  
Ren, by contrast, isn’t so eager to pack his schedule the way Akira does. Despite sharing a room with him, Akira’s only vaguely aware of what Ren does with his time, since he certainly doesn’t spend it at school. Ren had mentioned working full-time at the gas station, but Akira’s not sure he believes that. Every time he’s seen him, Ren’s either blasting his stereo or smoking on the front steps.  
  
“Hey,” Ren says, on a rare day when they’re both home. “You want one?”  
  
Akira swivels in his desk chair to see Ren shaking a pack of cigarettes at him. He sighs.  
  
“I don’t smoke, Ren.”  
  
“Not yet,” Ren shrugs. He plucks a cigarette from the pack and starts fishing for his lighter.  
  
Akira scowls. “Where did you even get those, anyway?”  
  
“Found ‘em.”  
  
“You found them.”  
  
“What are you gonna do, tell on me?” Ren smirks. He lights up, takes a long draw, and then blows the plume of blue smoke up towards the ceiling.  
  
Akira makes a face, and opens the window.  
  
“Pussy,” Ren scoffs.  
  
Akira glowers at him, before swiveling back around in his chair. He glances up at his corkboard, and the calendar hanging beside it.  
  
“Nine months,” he whispers, like a prayer. “Nine months...”  
  
~*~  
  
_“As soon as I get the chance, I’m making you a new computer.”_  
  
“What are you talking about?” Akira asks into his webcam. “I just got this laptop four years ago-”  
  
_“Four years?! Come on, Joker, that’s_ ** _ancient_** _!”_  
  
Even over a webcam, even over Inaba’s spotty internet, Futaba never fails to make Akira smile. They laugh together, and Akira leans forward, his chin in his hand.  
  
“I miss you, bug,” Akira admits, the truth burning a hole through his chest.  
  
_“I miss you, too…”_ Futaba pouts, hugging her knees.  
  
“Say hi to Dad for me, would you?”  
  
The door bangs open and Akira sighs, burying his head in his arms.  
  
“What up, little man?!” Ren bellows, barging in and flinging a backpack onto his bed- definitely not one filled with books, since Ren didn’t go to school. “Guess what I got?”  
  
Akira sighs. “Ren…”  
  
“Whoa, hello there…” Ren grins, leaning over Akira’s shoulder. Futaba squeaks at the unfamiliar face and shrinks away from the screen. Ren flicks his gaze from her back to Akira, a devilish smirk on his lips.  
  
“I’m sorry, am I interrupting?” Ren asks.  
  
Akira heaves a sigh. “I’m sorry, Taba. I’ll call you back.”  
  
Akira snaps his laptop shut and swivels around, glowering.  
  
“Guess she’s the type who charges by the minute, huh?” Ren smiles. “She’s cute.”  
  
“She’s _sixteen_ ,” Akira says, his voice hard.  
  
“Forget it,” Ren shrugs. “I got bigger stuff goin’ on. Check it out.”  
  
Ren scoops his backpack off his bed and slings it into Akira’s arms.  
  
“What are you, like, a medium?” Ren wonders. “Those oughta fit.”  
  
Akira scowls as he pulls out a stack of neatly folded graphic T-shirts- bands, video games, TV shows. Half of them are merch for fandoms he doesn’t care for. All of them still have their tags on.  
  
“Ren, come on, man,” Akira says wearily.  
  
“That’s a weird way to say ‘thank you’,” Ren shrugs. “Hey, don’t give me that look. Junes is a billion dollar corporation. You think they’ll miss a couple of T-shirts?”  
  
“The poor sap working the Men’s department will, when that gets taken out of his paycheck,” Akira mutters.  
  
Ren rolls his eyes.  
  
“Well, shit, if you don’t want ‘em, _I’ll_ take ‘em,” he says, snatching the pack off of Akira’s lap. “When did you turn into such a pussy?”  
  
“When did you turn into a petty thief?”  
  
The question hangs in the air between them. Ren’s eyes grow flinty and hard.  
  
“Don’t give me that shit,” he spat. “Don’t you judge me. What else is there to do in this shithole town?”  
  
Ren zips up his backpack and slings it over his shoulder, nodding towards Akira’s laptop.  
  
“Go ahead,” Ren says acidly, “call your girlfriend back.”  
  
“She’s not my-”  
  
“I don’t give a fuck who she is,” Ren snaps, and walks out.  
  
~*~  
  
The hours tick by, becoming days, becoming weeks. Akira’s mantra of “nine months, nine months” drops all the way down to a measly four. A new year is fast approaching, and with it, a new life. But Akira can’t wait that long to see the Thieves again. So, at dinner, he asks permission to spend his winter break in Tokyo, while Minami sits and nods, numb.  
  
Ren, meanwhile, isn’t afraid to voice his displeasure.  
  
“Ooooh, Tokyo, Tokyo, Tokyo,” he mutters venomously. “Change the fucking record.”  
  
Akira’s eyes snap up to his. “Excuse me?”  
  
“You just can’t _wait_ to get away from here, can you?” Ren snaps.  
  
“I don’t think I’ve ever kept that a secret,” Akira says, his voice low.  
  
“You spend one year in the big city and suddenly you’re too good for us, is that it?”  
  
Akira exhales, looking away. “...No.”  
  
“All you ever talk about is going back to Tokyo,” Ren laughs, bitter. “Once you graduate, you’ll be free! You’ll never have to set foot in this piece of shit town ever again!”  
  
“That’s enough, Ren,” Minami murmurs.  
  
“You miss it, do you? You miss having your own place, with a cool new crew, a cool new dad-”  
  
“It’s not-” Akira begins, then huffs. “It’s not like that-”  
  
“Yeah, sure,” Ren mutters. “You know what, Akira? I’m glad. I’m glad you had such a nice _vacation_ -”  
  
Akira slaps his palms against the table and leaps to his feet.  
  
“Vacation?!” Akira snaps. “ _Vacation?_ I was on probation, asshole! I got shipped off to be somebody else’s problem! I got sent miles away just because Mom couldn’t handle some bad press!”

“And then you replaced us,” Ren seethes. “They’re all you fucking talk about, so I’m sure you’re eager to get back to them. They’re your buddies, right? They’re the family you wish you had? Well, I’m so _FLATTERED-!”_  
  
Minami catches Ren’s fist in her hand.  
  
“Ren,” she whispers, her eyes wet. “Enough.”  
  
Akira stares into Ren’s crimson eyes, flashing with bitterness and anger. He takes a deep breath. He swallows hard, and he makes for the door.  
  
“Yeah!” Ren shouts after him. “Yeah, you run away! Go back to your girlfriend! Go back to your new dad and his fucking cafe! You go back to the big city and tell your crew how they _rescued_ you from your family! This is your family, you fucker! Right here! You can walk out just like Dad did, but _we’ll still be here!_ ”  
  
~*~  
  
Akira finds refuge at Shiho’s place. At first, he’s worried that her parents will object to letting a boy stay the night; she reassures him that they’d be more concerned about him bringing a cat into the apartment. No pets allowed. Morgana rolls his eyes, if a cat could be said to roll its eyes, and obligingly stays outside.  
  
In the morning, as Akira’s on the floor blindly groping for his glasses, Shiho nudges his arm with her foot. He squints up to see her with his glasses perched on her nose.  
  
“We’re twins!” she announces, and Akira laughs, despite everything.  
  
Akira retrieves his glasses, and the blur in his hands resolves into the new text notification on his phone.  
  
_Please come home_ , his mother asks.  
  
Akira sighs. It probably wouldn’t do his mother any favors if he told her the truth, which was that even the spare futon on Shiho’s floor felt more like home than Minami’s apartment- or that, after the past few months, Shiho was more of a sibling to him than Ren had ever been.  
  
In Tokyo, that was an easy thing to accept. But here in Inaba, it gnawed at him.  
  
Akira stared at his phone, his thoughts spiraling into the fog. But then, probably because she knows pointless, depressed rumination when she sees it, Shiho pulls him out of his anxiety with little more than a touch.  
  
Akira looks up. He reaches up and squeezes her hand on his shoulder.  
  
“Let’s go to Junes,” Shiho says. And they do.  
  
While they, once again, fail to catch sight of the so-called “Teddie”, Akira nonetheless emerges from the produce section with enough ingredients for a peace offering.  
  
Shiho politely declines Akira’s invitation to stay for breakfast.  
  
“Spend time with your family,” Shiho chides. Akira’s already doing that; but he knows what she means.  
  
Akira returns to a quiet apartment. He sets his groceries on the kitchen counter, picks out a pot, a cutting board, and a knife, and gets to work. Halfway through his recipe, Minami appears, without a word, and helps him with the chopping, with scarcely any acknowledgement of last night beyond a warm, relieved smile.  
  
Ren emerges from his room, still half-asleep, but the enticing aroma lures him into the kitchen. He stops in the doorway, awkwardly meeting Akira’s gaze. He opens his mouth, as if to say something, then closes it again. Akira pours a ladle of Sojiro’s curry over some freshly-cooked rice, and hands Ren a plate.  
  
Ren doesn’t say “I’m sorry”. But he says “Looks good”, which is close enough.  
  
~*~  
  
Three weeks into the New Year. Graduation is just over three months away.  
  
Ren manages to knock twice before barreling into the room anyway, suffused with manic energy. He’s clutching his backpack to his chest like it’s a baby, a wild grin across his face. Akira looks up from his desk, setting aside his phone.  
  
“Look what I got~” Ren sings, his fingers so shaky with excitement he can barely work the zipper.  
  
Akira rolls his eyes. “ _Ren_ -”  
  
“Hey, I actually _paid_ for this, this time,” Ren says, defensive. “Check it out!”  
  
Ren produces a bottle and a stack of paper cups. Akira catches the bottle, eyeing the label suspiciously.  
  
“Fireball? Are you kidding me?”  
  
“Oh, don’t be such a bitch,” Ren grins, grabbing a pair of cups and pouring them both a shot of hot cinnamon whiskey. They tap their cups together, an act not nearly as satisfying as the clink of shot glasses, and slug them down.  
  
“Fuck,” Akira hisses, as warmth blooms in his chest and in his nose. His phone chirps on his desk, and he reads it, frowning, while Ren’s already pouring them another round.  
  
“Everything okay?” Ren wonders.  
  
“It’s Ryuji,” Akira sighs. He drops his phone back on the desk and gestures vaguely with his hand. “He’s not doing great. He didn’t get into the university he was gunning for.”  
  
“That’s rough,” Ren says lightly. “You want my take? There’s always trade school.”  
  
“I was thinking of going to see him, just the two of us, help him get his mind off things.”  
  
Ren scoffs. “What is he, your boyfriend or something?”  
  
Akira goes stiff.  
  
“Would that be so bad?”  
  
Ren pauses, his cup halfway to his mouth. He takes the shot.  
  
“Nah,” Ren says, hissing as it goes down. “I guess not.”  
  
Akira relaxes his shoulders, and turns his attention back to his phone. Ren’s eyes wander past him, to the calendar above Akira’s desk, and the cork board hanging beside it. It’s so covered in photos you can barely see the board beneath. There’s a photo of Akira, stony-faced, on a rollercoaster. There’s a photo of him at a haunted house- him, and a guy with bleached hair, recoiling in terror from an off-screen assailant. There’s a photo of him behind the counter at a cafe, pouring coffee for a girl in a blue sundress. A beach. A park. A sleepover. Dozens more.  
  
Akira sees him staring, and puts down his phone.  
  
“What?” he wonders.  
  
Ren nods to the board. “They look like a hell of a crew.”  
  
Akira looks up at the sea of faces and breaks out into a huge, beaming smile. Ren never took him to be such a sap. But he still can’t bring himself to make fun of him for it.  
  
“They are,” Akira admits.  
  
Ren nods. “Tell me about them.”  
  
Akira’s eyes light up in a way that Ren’s never seen before. And for a split-second, Ren has a thought- that this was a look he could get used to.  
  
“Oh man,” Akira grins, pouring himself another shot. “Where do I even _start_ …”  
  
~*~  
  
**_Akira_ ** _sent a picture._ _  
_ _  
_ **_Akira_ ** _: Cheers, guys! Only three more months!_ _  
_ **_Shiho_ ** _: Three months! Three months!_ _  
_ **_Ryuji_ ** _: what the fuck dude is that fireball_ _  
_ **_Ann_ ** _: hey! you better save some for me!_ _  
_ **_Makoto_ ** _: I’m sorry. I thought I just saw people admitting to drinking underage._ _  
_ **_Ryuji_ ** _: oh, don’t be such a narc, Makoto_ _  
_ **_Ann_ ** _: she’s literally training to be a police officer_ _  
_ **_Haru_ ** _: At least he’s doing it in his own house, where he’s safe! <3 _ _  
_ **_Yusuke_ ** _: who is that with you, Akira? he looks… quite striking_ _  
_ **_Haru_ ** _: Is he a friend of yours, Aki-kun?_ _  
_ _  
_ **_Akira_ ** _sent a picture._ _  
_ _  
_ **_Akira_ ** _: This is my brother, Ren Amamiya._ _  
_ **_Akira_ ** _: He kept my dad’s name after the divorce. I kept my mom’s._ _  
_ **_Futaba_ ** _: OH NO HE’S HOT_ _  
_ **_Akira_ ** _: Futaba…_ _  
_ **_Makoto_ ** _: You never told us you had a twin._ _  
_ **_Shiho_ ** _: That’s right, Akira has a twin brother!_ _  
_ **_Shiho_ ** _: And for the past year or so…_ _  
_ **_Shiho_ ** _: I’ve had both of them all to myself! ;) ;) ;)_ _  
_ **_Ann_ ** _: WH_ _  
_ **_Futaba_ ** _: SLDKJFSLDFLSLDF_ _  
_ **_Yusuke_ ** _: oh dear._ _  
_ **_Haru_ ** _: oh my…_ _  
_ **_Ryuji_ ** _: christ, Shiho_ _  
_ **_Ann_ ** _: SHIHO!!!_ _  
_ **_Akira_ ** _: SHIHO THAT IS NOT FUNNY_ _  
_ _  
_ _Several people are typing…_ _  
_  
~*~


End file.
